


You Want a Battle? (Here's a War)

by politics_and_prose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23366917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politics_and_prose/pseuds/politics_and_prose
Summary: A curse.  That’s what Healer Smythe had said.  Hermione was being affected by a curse.
Relationships: Ginny Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter, Padma Patil/Ron Weasley
Comments: 27
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter One

_Well, I suppose the other shoe had to drop sooner or later_ , Hermione thought as she stared, speechless, at the healer in front of her. _Things were just going too well._

“I’m sorry, Miss Granger,” Healer Smythe said softly, her eyes full of the pity Hermione hadn’t seen in years.“Of course, I’ll set a team of researchers to the task of finding a solution.”The healer paused and cleared her throat.“Should there be one.”

Hermione could only nod.When she’d decided to seek out a healer because she was feeling fatigued, she never could have imagined this was the reason.Her worst case scenario was an unplanned pregnancy with her still-too-new-to-consider-a-baby boyfriend. 

If only.

Healer Smythe murmured her apologies again before she left Hermione to her thoughts.It was muscle memory that propelled Hermione off of the exam table and out of the room.Waving mechanically to Padma Patil, who was passing by in her healers’ robes, she exited St. Mungo’s.

Hermione took a moment to breathe in the cool air of the London street, her heated cheeks finding slight relief in the late autumn chill.After a long moment and a few confused looks from muggles passing her by, she nodded to herself, took a deep breath, tightened the belt on her jacket and headed in the direction of the Ministry.

Just because she got incredibly troubling news didn’t mean that magical creatures didn’t need protection.

The walk back to work gave Hermione some time to clear her mind.There was no way she would be able to process the news between the hospital and the Ministry, but she could start in on a plan.

Step One:Keep it to yourself.

It was really the only thought that Hermione was able to focus on as she dodged the muggles and smiled at the witches or wizards who called her name.She wasn’t nearly as famous a Harry, thank goodness, but occasionally she was recognized when she went out.It happened more often now, nearly as much as it did in the direct aftermath of the war, because her boyfriend tended to draw attention wherever he went.

She supposed being in the Top Five of _Witch Weekly’s Most Eligible Wizards_ list for three years running garnered a certain level of interest, more so when the wizard in question started a new relationship.

Instead of going through the public toilet, Hermione chose to enter through the red muggle phone booth, dialing 62442 and descending into the atrium.

She was able to make it nearly to the lifts before running into one of her friends.Before Angelina could get a word out, Hermione pasted on a large smile and said, “I heard George is throwing a party at the shop this weekend for the launch of a new product?”

Angelina rolled her eyes and huffed a short laugh.“Yes, so he claims.Not that he’s done a damn thing to plan it.I swear,” she added, her hand moving to rest on the growing swell of her stomach, “he just gets the ideas and makes Ron -“

Hermione noticed Angelina’s cheeks heat as she cut herself off.“Really, Angie,” she said with her first real smile in what felt like years, “you can use his name.We broke up _ages_ ago.In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s taken Harry with him to buy a ring for Padma. Merlin knows he can’t make that kind of decision on his own and he won’t admit that he needs help to me.And, you know,” Hermione added with a little smirk, “I’m seeing someone too.”

“So that’s true then?” Angelina asked with interest as they stepped into the lift.“You’re really dating …?”

“Draco Malfoy? Yeah,” Hermione confirmed, pleased that her cheeks didn’t heat up at the admission.“Still kind of new but, you know.It’s good.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it this weekend,” Angelina said as the lift arrived at Level Four and Hermione made to step out.“And it had better involve firewhiskey and a hot, hot shag!”

“Angelina!” Hermione hissed, whipping around to stare at her friend as a few of her coworkers wolf whistled.

Angelina just wiggled her fingers and the lift disappeared, the older woman’s laugh echoing in Hermione’s ears.

With a bright red blush staining her cheeks, Hermione made her way to her office and shut the door to the rest of the department.She wasn’t head of Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures yet, but she felt like the promotion wasn’t far off. 

_Well, it hadn’t been … until now_ , she thought bitterly as she removed her cloak and dropped into her seat.

Without giving herself the chance to fall into her feelings about what Hea;ter Smythe had told her, Hermione pulled a parchment in front of her and tried as hard as she could to focus on the draft legislation one of the younger employees working on werewolf rights had inked.Unfortunately, her mind kept drifting back to St. Mungo’s and the news that the contrite-looking healer had delivered.

A curse.That’s what Healer Smythe had said.Hermione was being affected by a curse.There was no name for it and Healer Smythe hadn’t been able to find any instances of someone else being treated at St. Mungo’s with similar results, so she had asked Hermione to sift through her mind for any time she’d been hit with anything unfamiliar.It had taken her far longer than she wished to admit to remember that awful night in her fifth year, when Antonin Dolohov had been silenced but hit her with the purple curse and she’d woken up hours later with no knowledge of what had happened.

A full gambit of tests and diagnostics were run on her and there was no specific diagnosis but a definite final outcome: Hermione was going to lose her magic completely, and had already lost some of her magical strength.It wasn’t enough to make a difference in her ability to perform spells yet, but her magical core had dimmed minutely since her last visit to the hospital.

“Why now, though?” she breathed to herself as she sat back in her seat, legislation abandoned.“What changed to trigger the curse now?”

Hermione wished she could trace back to exactly when the fatigue had started.She knew it was more than a week but less than a month, but she couldn’t pinpoint the moment that she’d noticed the change.She knew she could talk to Harry or Ron and see if one of them remembered anything specific that had happened in the last two to three weeks, but she knew they would both ask too many questions that she didn’t want to answer.

And then there was Draco.Their relationship was still somewhat new and they certainly weren’t the type to be clingy and spend all of their free time together, but she was pretty sure he would be able to narrow down any important events within the last month that could have triggered the curse.

_But should I even tell him_ , she wondered to herself.It was obvious to her that their relationship was going to have to end if there was no cure for the effects of Dolohov’s curse.Draco was a Malfoy, a member of the Sacred Twenty Eight, and the sole heir to his family’s name.He _was_ magic.

They hadn’t done a formal “meet the family” dinner on either side, but Hermione was sure that his mother, as tolerant and changed as she might claim to be, would never accept her son having a lasting relationship with a muggle.

Her stomach turned as the impact of that word hit her.Muggle.She’d spent the first eleven years of her life not knowing there was anything else a person could be, then a beautiful thirteen years knowing she was special.Now, at the too-young age of 24, she was faced with the possibility of going back to being a muggle, normal, nothing special at all.

Her own thoughts made her cringe.Her parents were muggles; heck, her whole family were muggles.There was absolutely _nothing wrong_ with being a muggle.The thing was, now that she knew what it was like to be different, special, powerful, she didn’t want to go back to the way things were before.

A knock on the door made Hermione snap back to reality.When she called for the knocker to come in, a genuine smile slipped onto her face when he did.

“Harry,” she smiled.“What are you doing up here?”

“Jessie said you had an appointment this morning,” he said, closing the door behind him and sitting in one of her spare seats.“Wouldn’t say where but Padma floo’d Ron, who floo’d me and, y’know, here I am.”

“It’s nothing,” Hermione lied as convincingly as she could.She knew Harry didn’t buy it fully, but he chose to nod instead of push her.“Just a general …” She waived her hand in a vague way over her chest and stomach.“Check up.Very routine.”

Harry arched a brow and lifted the edge of his lips.“You’re the worst liar, Hermione.The _worst_.But it’s obvious whatever it is, you’re not ready to tell me, so you can get away with it.For now.”

Hermione knew he meant what he said; she was being permitted a free pass for now, but Auror Potter wouldn’t let her get away with it forever.Luckily, Harry wasn’t one to push her too far when she wasn’t ready to speak about something; he knew she would just shut down and refuse to say anything at all out of sheer stubbornness if he tried too hard.“Thanks,” she said softly, a slight smile on her lips.“I just - have some things to figure out for myself before I’m ready to talk about it.”

“Are you -“ Harry started, a nearly imperceptible tremor in his voice.“Are you going to be okay?”

She took a couple of beats to consider his question before nodding once.“Yes, I’m going to be fine.”There were billions of muggles in the world; becoming one of them wasn’t going to kill her.

* * *

That night, she stood in front of her mirror and let her eyes roam over her body.She was in a pair of nice slacks and a deep blue shirt, not quite sure where she and Draco were going for dinner but knowing a pair of jeans wasn’t likely to match the dress code.

Hermione was tired, probably too tired to be going on a date, but she hadn’t been able to properly go out with Draco for nearly two weeks and she could admit that she missed him.Ten minute coffees or quick flow calls weren’t enough to sate her desire to see him.

If someone had told her six months ago that she would look forward to going anywhere with Draco Malfoy, let alone on a date, she would have laughed in their face. 

When Draco Malfoy had left the reserve team for the Appleby Arrows and taken a job in the front office of the Holyhead Harpies, everyone was surprised.He hadn’t been a particularly popular quidditch player and only had a couple of chances with the main club before he decided to hang up his broom and make his way in another area of his favorite game.Hermione was shocked he hadn’t gone into alchemy or something to do with politics, but the way Ginny spoke about him made her change her thoughts.She hadn’t known him very well when they were children, after all.

It was odd to everyone when Ginny brought him home to a Sunday dinner with the family, citing he needed somewhere to get a home cooked meal before he disappeared from lack of nutrition.George laughed and called her _Mum_ for the rest of the day, but she didn’t seem to care.She made it a point to bring Malfoy into conversations and shot her brothers or Harry dangerous looks if they dared to make a snide comment.

Hermione had needed a break from the stifling heat of the Burrow and gone out to sit at the small table in the garden shortly after their meal was finished.It wasn’t more than twenty minutes before she was joined by Malfoy.

_“Mind if I sit?” he asked a little breathlessly.“It’s …”_

_“Overwhelming?” she asked knowingly._

_“A little,” he agreed.“Not really used to …”He waved a hand in the general direction of the house and Hermione completely understood._

_“Yeah,” she smiled and pushed some of her bushy hair from her face.“I’ve been coming for years and I still struggle with it all sometimes.No shame in taking a breath.Especially with the little one running around like crazy.”_

_“Not a fan of kids?” Malfoy asked with an arched brow._

_“I - it’s not that,” Hermione denied.“It’s just a lot when it’s all of the family, plus me and Harry and Luna, and you’re here too.Jackie and Padma couldn’t come so that’s two fewer but Charlie keeps hinting he’s finally going to bring ‘round his new girlfriend and …” She exhaled and chuckled a little shakily.“I don’t know how anyone is comfortable in that house with everyone always hanging around.”_

_“Probably because you had a small family growing up; I did too.We could breathe a lot better in our homes, I reckon.”_

_Nodding in agreement, Hermione smiled a bit.“Probably more room in yours than mine,” she teased._

_“Yes well, you probably didn’t get lost in yours.Thank goodness for house elves or I would have starved to death when I was six.”_

_Hermione shared a laugh with him, then paused to observe him for a moment.“You seem different,” she told him.“Since we last spoke at that fundraiser for the school.Lighter.”_

_“Thanks for noticing, Granger,” he grinned.“I’ve been working out more.”He laughed at the look that was on her face.“I feel better than I did then.I was reserve in Appleby, still trying to prove I’m not the same kid who made some pretty spectacular mistakes, and work through a rocky break up.”_

_“Astoria Greengrass,” Hermione nodded.“The_ Prophet _was all over you about that.”_

_Malfoy rolled his eyes.“Not as bad as they were with you and Weasley,” he acknowledged.“Thankfully.”_

_Hermione nodded.“It’s nice being past all that.Nothing interesting in the life of a Ministry grunt.”_

_“Nor in the life of a quidditch manager.”_

_They shared another smile before the brothers, Harry and Ginny burst out the doors with brooms in hand and a nod towards the orchards.“Malfoy, you in?” Charlie asked._

_He looked at her and she shrugged and motioned for him to go.“Don’t fall off your broom.Padma’s not here to heal you,” she grinned, standing as well.“And I’ve no inclination to help any showboaters.”_

_“Showboaters!” Harry exclaimed, wrapping an arm around her and tugging her close.“I’ll show you showboaters!”_

_Hermione shook her head and met Malfoy’s eyes, sharing a small smile before they all took off for the makeshift quidditch pitch._

“Granger?You, uh, you home?”

Malfoy’s voice pulled her from her memory and she forced out a bright, “Coming!” before heading out of her bedroom to meet him by the fireplace.“Hi.”

Malfoy stood on the rug in front fo the hearth in a pair of dress slacks and a black collared shirt, a smile on his face and his hair only slightly disheveled.“You look nice,” he told her, reaching a hand out to her.She placed her hand in his and he brought it to his lips for a light kiss.“What’s the occasion?”

Smiling honestly, then feigning nonchalance, she lifted a shoulder in a shrug.“Just dinner with some bloke,” she told him.“Nothing important.Got a better offer for me?”

Malfoy hummed and used the hand he still held to tug her closer.His hands slid around to her lower back and he leaned down so his lips were nearly touching hers.“I can think of a few,” he whispered.

Grinning, Hermione looped around his neck.“Please feel free to share,” she breathed just before he kissed her.

As she started backing them towards her bedroom, grinning against his mouth, she pushed the horrible news from earlier in the day from her mind and decided to focus on _him_ and _now_.She could deal with losing her magic tomorrow.


	2. Chapter Two

The next morning, Hermione woke with a pale arm wrapped around her waist.She smiled and stretched languidly, turning over to look at the peaceful face of her still-slumbering boyfriend.He looked much softer when he was relaxed, and part of her wished he could be like this all the time.The other part was glad for the harder man whose eyes flashed when she baited him into a row just to rile him up.

There was definitely something to be said for couples who had a passion deeper than sex or even love - his mind made her shiver in the very best of ways.

“Will you be staring at me all morning or is there coffee to be had in the kitchen?” Malfoy asked without opening his eyes, a small smile on his lips.

“Donno,” she retorted, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.“Thinking I might stare until you get up to make it yourself.”

“Making me get my own coffee?” he asked as he tugged her closer and buried his face against her neck.Words muffled by her thick and wild hair, he added, “But I’m your guest.”

Hermione snorted and pushed him away from her.“Guest.”Rolling her eyes, she climbed out of bed and grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.“Right.Lazy ponce, more like.”She heard him growl and the rustle of her bedsheets, so she laughed and took off for the kitchen, his footsteps close behind.

Before she could flip on the muggle coffee pot she favored, his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against his naked chest.“You’re playing with fire this morning, witch,” he growled against her ear before attaching his lips to her neck.

“A favorite pastime of mine,” she agreed breathlessly, tilting her head to the side to give him more access.

“As much as I enjoy a good show,” a masculine voice drawled from behind them, “perhaps you can save it for when you don’t have an audience?”

With a shriek, Hermione jumped away from Malfoy and whirled around to see Ron sitting at her kitchen table, a steaming cup of takeaway coffee and a muffin in front of him.“Ron!”

The redhead smirked and nodded to Malfoy.“Mind putting a shirt on, mate?Though I suppose I should be grateful you’ve got trunks on.”

“Why, Weasley?Am I distracting you?”

“Making me wanna upchuck this muffin, more like,” Ron shot back with a grin.“Can I get a minute with Hermione?Promise I’ll leave you to your Saturday morning … workout … as soon as we’re done.”

With his usual air of defiance, Malfoy casually made his way to Hermione, pulled her into a slow, deep, languid kiss, then released her and returned to the bedroom.

Hermione stared after him in a daze for a few long beats before turning to Ron.“You’d better have a damn good reason for being in my kitchen right now, Ronald.”

Ron smirked and took a slow sip of his coffee.“Can’t a bloke just drop in and have a bit of breakfast with one of his best mates?” he asked innocently.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.“Out with it.”

Adopting a more serious countenance, Ron leaned forward.His eyes shifted to make sure Draco wasn’t coming back down the hallway before he asked in a low voice, “Why were you at Mungo’s yesterday?”

Hermione’s heart froze and her breath caught in her throat.She’d completely forgotten.It seemed that spending time with Draco Malfoy tended to keep away all of the negative and scary thoughts in her mind.He kept her present; it was one fo the things she enjoyed most about their growing relationship.

Something must have crossed her face because Ron reached out and took her hands, drawing her closer.“Hermione … you can tell me.Please tell me.”

“I can’t,” she refused quietly and as kindly as she could, though keeping her voice firm enough to hopefully make him understand she wasn’t playing coy.“I’m not ready yet.I told Harry the same yesterday.I’ve got to - there’s something I need to figure out before I tell anyone.”

Ron’s eyes cut towards the bedroom again.“Anyone?”

“ _Anyone_ ,” she emphasized.“Right now, I’m pretty sure only my healer and I know what’s going on.And it’s going to stay that way.No getting Harry to pull rank, no getting Padma to look into things … this is something I need to figure out before I’m comfortable enough to share it.”

Defeated, Ron released her hands and slumped into his seat.“Yeah, yeah.I get it.S’like at school.Another bloody Eileen Prince.”

Hermione laughed just as Malfoy reentered the kitchen.“What’s the joke?” he asked, finally flipping on the coffee pot and grabbing two mugs.“What?” he asked at Ron’s disbelieving stare.

“That’s - that’s muggle,” he said in confusion.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.“I’m adaptive, Weasley.Date a muggleborn, wake up in her flat while she’s snoring away - don’t pretend, love, you know you do - and need coffee, you figure it out.”He paused and grinned.“At least _I_ did.”

“You two are ridiculous,” she groaned, heading towards the refrigerator.“I’ll make some omelets for breakfast.”

“Sounds delicious,” Ron agreed.At the looks from Hermione and Malfoy, he raised his hands in surrender and laughed.“Got it.Last night’s date’s not over yet.”He pushed to his feet and looked at Hermione.“Though our conversation isn’t either.”

Rolling her eyes, she waved a hand at him.“Yes, yes.Get out now.”

Once Ron was gone, Malfoy approached her and wrapped his arms around her middle, his chin resting on her shoulder.He must have still been tired, as he wasn’t usually this cuddly.“So, what did he want?”

_Or he was jealous_ , she snickered internally.

“Just being nosey.I saw Padma yesterday when I was out and he thinks he’s entitled to know what we talked about,” she lied.It made her stomach clench, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell him she was at St. Mungo’s.He was as bad as she was when it came to a mystery. 

The fleeting thought of telling him what her situation was skipped through her mind again but she pushed it away immediately.If she wasn’t telling her very best friends, she certainly wasn’t ready to tell her boyfriend of a few months.She would research first, then loop the boys in once she was confident in her findings.

“Just wants to know if she knows he’s going to propose,” he hypothesized before kissing her neck and backing away.“So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“The party?” she asked with an arched brow.“At the joke shop?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, pouring them both a cup of coffee and then taking a sip from his as he added milk to hers.“What time and all that?”

“You - you want to come?” she asked in surprise, turning away from the egg mixture she was whisking.“To a Weasley party?”

He shrugged and plucked a grape from its vine and popping it in his mouth.His lips puckered and he shivered.“Sour.”He made a noise and then shook his head.“I mean, I was planning on it.Unless you’re bringing one of your less attractive and definitely poorer and unkempt boyfriends instead.”

“Well, I _was_ planning on that,” she agreed as she turned back to the eggs, “but since you’ve RSVP’d first, I suppose you’ll have to do.D’you have work today?”

“Got to be in the office by eleven,” he confirmed.“Floo call with the Bulgarians.I’ll mention how good the sex between us is if I talk to Krum.Figured I’d leave around five or six.That enough time?”

“Likely,” Hermione told him with a nod, ignoring the bit about Viktor.“Angelina is going to floo me later with specifics.If you’re here by seven it should be fine.”

“Alright,” he nodded, pulling a couple of plates from her cupboard and then the silverware needed for their breakfast.“And if it’s earlier, we can be fashionably late.”

Shaking off the thought of how _comfortable_ and _right_ he looked in her kitchen, she smiled.“As if we weren’t going to be anyway.”

With a mildly lecherous grin, Malfoy just shrugged his shoulder and popped another grape into his mouth.She laughed when his lips puckered once again.

* * *

Once Malfoy was gone, Hermione took a few moments to set her apartment to rights, cleaning the dishes and making the bed without magic, before deciding she would need to figure out where exactly she should begin researching the curse that was slowly draining her magic.

Since there was no precedent, Hermione had no idea how long she had before her magic was completely gone.The fatigue had set in a few weeks ago but she hadn’t noticed anything else different that she could attribute to the weakening of her magic core.It had dimmed some, she knew, but were there other side effects?Would she forget spells?Would she have bouts of accidental magic that she couldn’t control?It drove her mad knowing that the only thing she had to go on was “purple curse”.Maybe she would start with studying how witches and wizards lost their magic.She knew there was something to grief assisting in that process, but she didn’t have Tonks to talk to about how it had felt for her.

Idly, she wondered if there were any Unspeakables she might be able to talk to.She knew Dean Thomas was one, but she hadn’t seen him in quite a while and didn’t want him to think she was only contacting him because she wanted something.Perhaps she would mention the party that night and rekindle their friendship.It should only take a few weeks for her to establish that she wasn’t simply using him for his access.

_Do I even have a few weeks left?_ she wondered to herself. 

Pushing the grim thought from her mind, Hermione dressed and prepared to go into the Ministry.Their library wasn’t as extensive as that of Hogwarts, but she wasn’t ready to contact Minerva just yet.The Headmistress always seemed to know when something was wrong and had absolutely no qualms about pushing her until she was ready to admit whatever it was that was causing her distress. 

Hermione knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret for long.She was excellent at research and one of the smartest people she knew, but this seemed to be out of her depth.Malfoy was knowledgable in some dark magic, but she wasn’t planning on going to him for this part.First, he was her boyfriend for now, unless she found a way to counteract the curse, and second, he had done so much to cultivate a new persona that she didn’t want him to think for even a moment that she believed he was still the boy he’d been in school.

Her mind drifted to his friends.Zabini was out, as the darkest he’d ever gotten, to her knowledge at least, was throwing a curse or two during the Battle.Honestly, she wasn’t even sure he’d hit anyone.Parkinson might have been a better choice, but Hermione thought the other witch might still be a little hacked off that Draco hadn’t chosen her over Hermione.They were passively accepting of each other, as neither had any plans to not be in Malfoy’s life.

Finally, her thoughts landed on Nott.He was a sarcastic sod, but he was probably the smartest of Malfoy’s friends, and the furthest into the dark arts if she discounted Goyle.He was reformed, if what Malfoy had told her was true, but one simply didn’t lose knowledge of something just because they didn’t practice anymore.Hopefully.

Determined to not need to consult Nott, Hermione left her flat and headed down the road to an apparition point and disapparated to a location near the Ministry.She wasn’t due in the office since it was Saturday, but no one would say anything to her if she simply informed them she was spending some time researching the the library.She figured everyone would assume it was for the werewolf legislation or bowtruckle habitat development.Hermione had never been happier to be considered an overzealous swot before in her life.

Unfortunately for her, after several hours of pouring through books, she was no closer to finding an answer than she was at the beginning of the day.Her heart raced and clenched with nerves as a part of her started to accept that she didn’t have enough information to track down the spell.The only person she knew of that would be able to answer her wouldn’t do it.There was no way she would be able to get to Azkaban and interrogate Dolohov by herself and she simply wasn’t ready to involve Harry yet. 

Determined and knowing there were still a few books for her to peruse in the Ministry library before being forced to move to another course of action, Hermione gathered her things so she could go home and begin getting ready for the party.Since she’d missed the scheduled floo call with Angelina, she headed to Diagon Alley to check in with George and Ron and let them know she was bringing a plus one.

“Finally bringing the git ‘round so we can initiate him, yeah?” George asked with a grin.“‘Bout time.”

“First, he’s not a git anymore.”Rolling her eyes at the looks she received from the brothers, she sighed.“Fine, he’s a bit of a git still but he won’t act like one tonight, I promise.And second, you will _not_ scare him off.I happen to like him quite a bit.”

“She likes him so much he’s spending the night,” Ron butted in, wiggling his eyebrows at George.

“Didn’t know you were one for premarital sleep overs, Granger,” George teased.

Hermione, adopting an aloof countenance, shrugged and turned to walk out of the shop.“Who said anything about sleeping?” she called back, smiling to herself when one of them, George, she had to assume, sent her off with a loud wolf whistle.

* * *

Showing up to the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes party with Draco Malfoy on her arm certainly turned some heads.They’d been together nearing six months but hadn’t made the jump to joint appearances at large gatherings of friends and family.He’d been with her when she spent time with Harry, Ron, Ginny and their significant others, and she’d gone with him to see Theo or Pansy or Blaise, but this was a first for them as a couple.

The look on Michael Corner’s face was enough to make her giggle.

“It’s as if we haven’t been on Page Six of the bleeding _Prophet_ nearly every weekend for half a year,” Malfoy said as he rolled his eyes. 

“Maybe they think you’re dressed oddly formal for a Weasley party,” she replied with a shrug.“You look like you’re about to attend an exclusive event.Then again, you dressed like this for the Quidditch World Cup so …”

“Admit it,” he rejoined, “you like when I look well put together.”

She gave him a sly little grin and shrugged.“I like the way you look most of the time.”

He smirked smugly before his face fell.“Wait. _Most_ of the time?When don’t you?”

Hermione offered him another shrug and unwound her arm from his, disappearing into the crowd of people in search of the proprietors.When she reached Ron and Padma, she hugged them each.“Malfoy will be along shortly,” she told them as Padma glanced over her shoulder.“I’ve left him wondering when I don’t find him attractive. It’s horribly funny to ruffle his feathers still.”

“To think,” her friend responded, a teasing smile on her lips, “I always imagined you and Draco Malfoy would have a good, rough shag and either kill each other or never be able to look at the other again.Joke’s on me, I suppose.”

“Padma!” Hermione laughed as Ron choked on his drink.“That’s awful.”

“But not outside of the realm of possibility,” the other woman responded and sipped her own drink.“All joking aside though,” she added, leaning in closely and whispering, “the rumors?”

“Do him no justice at all,” Hermione responded conspiratorially before swiping Ron’s drink and taking a swig and then handing it back.“Honestly.”

“Talking about me, Granger?” Malfoy asked as he sidled up behind hand and placed a hand on her hip.

“Not at all.I’d forgotten you were here.”

“You two are mental,” Ron said, pointing at them.“Completely mental.”

“Who’s mental?” a dreamy voice asked from her left and Hermione smiled to see Luna joining them.She pulled slightly away from Draco to hug her friend and then stepped back to his light embrace.

“Ronald thinks Malfoy and I are mental,” she answered.“He just doesn’t understand our relationship.”

“I think they’re the perfect match,” Luna said to Ron.“Knew it from the very beginning.It’ll be wonderful for Ravenclaw when their children arrive at Hogwarts.They’re bound to be remarkably clever.”

“Oooh!” Padma exclaimed, eyes wide and head nodding quickly.“You’re absolutely right!Their kids are bound to be Ravenclaws!”

“M-maybe we hold off on the talk of children?” Hermione suggested weakly, her voice higher than normal. 

“Yeah,” Malfoy agreed.“And they’ll definitely be Slytherin anyway.We all know that _should_ have been Granger’s House.”

“Except she’s muggleborn,” Ron said thoughtfully.At Hermione’s affronted look, he added, “You set Snape’s cloak on bloody _fire_ in first year and left Umbridge to the centaurs in fifth.Don’t tell me you don’t think you’re at least a little bit Slytherin,” he snorted.“Probably more than Harry would have been, to be honest.”

“And at the very least,” Padma added with a sly smile, “she’s got Slytherin in her every once in a while, right, Malfoy?”

Hermione turned bright red as the other four burst out in laughter.She was pretty sure bringing Malfoy to an event with all of her friends was a terrible, terrible idea.

* * *

By the time she got home that night she was more exhausted than usual.She hoped it was just because of the last twenty four hours and not because she’d lost even more of her magical core.

Malfoy told her before he dropped her off that he was headed to visit his mother in France for a few days, so she’d kissed him and told him to stop by the Ministry when he got back.Hopefully by then she would have found the answers she was looking for and could fill him in.Otherwise, she would likely just grab as much time as she could with him before ending their relationship.The thought made her stomach clench painfully.

Hermione changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed.She flipped on the light switch for her bedside lamp and opened one of the books she’d checked out of the Ministry library that afternoon.She’d read and reread the information but she couldn’t seem to gather anything relevant to her situation.

“A witch or wizard may lose their ability to perform magic in times of great distress.It is alleged the sister of …” she mumbled to herself, stopping when she saw Dumbledore’s name.She knew that story, multiple versions of it, and knew it didn’t apply to her.

Harry had also told her about Voldemort’s mother based on the memories he’d traveled into with Dumbledore.Merope Gaunt’s magical issues were based on abuse and mistreatment, not on any kind of spell, so they didn’t help her either.Even Tonks had only been effected based on her emotions and not on any outside catalyst, so talking to Andromeda about those months likely wouldn’t garner any answers to her predicament.

“He had to have invented it himself,” she murmured.“Dolohov must have invented that spell like Snape had with sectumsempra.It’s not unheard of,” she added thoughtfully.“Great witches and wizards do it all the time.”Wrinkling her nose, she told herself, “So maybe he didn’t invent it himself but someone dark definitely did.Perhaps it was one of Snape’s.Maybe it’s in that old potions book Harry used to cheat in sixth year.”

Groaning, Hermione admitted to herself she was closer to needing a trip to Hogwarts than she initially planned. 

“One more day in the Ministry,” she told herself, closing the unhelpful book, “and then I’ll make the trip to Hogwarts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! I'm not sure when updates will be - I'll usually wait until the next chapter is written/mostly written. My work schedule is in flux right now with the horrible craziness going on in the world, but I'll do my best to keep up with everything. Thanks again!


	3. Chapter Three

_One more day in the Ministry_ turned into three more days as Hermione scoured the shelves for anything that might hold a hint of a mention of the curse Dolohov had hit her with.Even when she discovered that it wasn’t going to be of any help, she still read the chapters that had the possibility of relating to her plight more than once.She yielded no results and gave herself a massive headache for her troubles.

On Tuesday she sent an owl to Hogwarts asking Minerva for leave to visit and borrow the extensive resources the library had to offer.The Headmistress told her she was always welcome and that she would make sure the floo to her office was open early on Saturday morning.Hermione didn’t want to wait but she _did_ still have a job and regardless of the fact that she could possibly have to leave it, she wanted to make sure she put in the maximum effort.If she was going to be forced out, Hermione was going to make sure her successor had every opportunity to complete the work she’d started.

On Wednesday, she took a long lunch break to go back to St. Mungo’s to meet with Healer Smythe.The older woman looked worn and Hermione felt a pang of guilt.While she knew she wasn’t the healer’s only patient, she was sure that the uncertainty of Hermione’s situation was weighing heavily on her.Healers didn’t like not knowing how to help someone and Hermione wondered how long they would look to try to solve her issue before having to give up.

She hoped they kept searching even if she lost her magic completely.If Dolohov had taught someone else that evil spell, perhaps St. Mungo’s would be able to help the next victim.

“There’s been no breakthrough yet,” Healer Smythe told her softly.“We’re going through every medical text at our disposal, no matter how obscure, but …”

“It’ll take some time,” Hermione finished softly and the healer nodded.“I understand.I’ll be going to Hogwarts at the weekend to see if I can find anything there.Would you mind terribly if I consult Madame Pomfrey?She treated me immediately after and she might have some kind of idea what it was.”

“Not at all,” Healer Smythe agreed easily.“The more minds we have on this, the sooner we can find the cure.”

Her statement made Hermione pause again.Would it be better if she involved her friends now as opposed to waiting for a last resort?The idea once again made her stomach clench.She didn’t want them to know what was going on because she didn’t want them to worry themselves.

_Or maybe I don’t want them to simply accept it and say an early goodbye_.The thought had plagued her since she found out her diagnosis.She, Harry and Ron were still close, as close as they’d been outside of the tent in seventh year, but she was irrationally worried that they would just take her fate at face value and walk away.Maybe that would make the situation hurt less for them.Maybe it would make it hurt less for her as well.

_Maybe they’d be glad to be rid of you_ , a small part of her brain whispered.

Hermione shook her head sharply to dislodge and remove that thought.Harry and Ron still loved her like a sister and would do whatever it took to help her out.In fact, she knew in her heart that they would never accept that she would be gone from the magical world for good; they would both pend as much time and as many resources as they could to ensure she wouldn’t lose her magic or, if she did, find a way to get it back.

“Miss Granger?”

Taking a deep breath and coming back to herself, Hermione smiled at Healer Smythe.“I’ll let you know if I learn anything,” she told the woman.“When - um.When should we scan my magic again?”

“Have you found any additional symptoms since you were here last?” Healer Smythe asked curiously.

“No,” Hermione denied honestly.“Just the fatigue.No problems casting spells or anything that I’ve noticed.”

“Good, good,” the healer responded.“We’ll do another scan in a week, just to see if there’s been any regression in your core strength.Have you determined yet what changed in the last few weeks that could have set the curse in motion?”

“No,” Hermione sighed.“Nothing.I’ll keep thinking on it, though.There was nothing in my planner saying I’ve done anything out of the ordinary.”

Healer Smythe nodded and extended her hand.“I look forward to having some good news to share between us next week.”

“From your lips to Merlin’s ears,” Hermione smiled, shaking the healer’s hand before heading back to work.

* * *

By the time Saturday morning rolled around, Hermione was anxious on two fronts.First, she would be going up to Hogwarts for the day, hoping beyond hope that she would find something, _anything_ related to the purple curse.She knew it was a long shot and refused to allow herself to get too attached to the idea of leaving the castle with a solution, but she thought Hogwarts had never really let her down before and she wasn’t going to convince herself that it was going to start.

Second, Malfoy was coming home at some point during the day and would be taking her out to dinner that night.She had her dress laid out on her bed and was definitely going to enforce the “date before bedtime activities” rule so they wouldn’t miss their reservations as they had the week before.

As Hermione got ready to floo to Minerva’s office, she allowed herself to get lost in the thought of her boyfriend.Her nose wrinkled at the juvenile term but she was a far cry from calling him her _lover_ the way Ginny and Harry did whenever they got the chance.Their teasing was welcome, however, because it showed how accepting they were of the somewhat unexpected relationship she’d found herself in. 

She found herself liking Malfoy more and more, though she wouldn’t allow herself to admit it.There was something about letting him in that made her feel like she was losing a power struggle and she and Malfoy, if nothing else, were fierce competitors. 

As Hermione finished tidying up her flat, knowing there was a chance he would get to her place before she returned from Hogwarts, she thought about what it would be like to not be with him anymore.It was still new, at least in her mind, but she couldn’t picture _not_ seeing or interacting with Malfoy in some way at least twice a week.Recently, she’d found that even _that_ wasn’t enough.

_If my younger self could see me now_ , she thought sardonically as she left a quick note for him on the coffee table.

Without any other distraction to stall her, Hermione floo’d to Hogwarts and directly into the Headmistress’ office.Minerva was there to greet her with a friendly smile and a welcoming cup of tea.“Miss Granger,” she said warmly, and Hermione was briefly transported back in time.She’d found a true kindred spirit in the former Transfiguration professor and now Headmistress.The woman had been something of a mentor to her, someone to aspire to be, if not in career goals then in personality and practice at the very least.

“Headmistress,” Hermione rejoined, clasping hands with the older witch and then sitting in the offered chair.“Thank you for allowing me to drop by today.I won’t be of any distraction to the students, I promise.”

“I’m sure you won’t be able to keep that particular promise,” Minerva rejoined with a light chuckle.“While it _is_ a Hogsmeade weekend, I’ve no doubt that once our younger students catch sight of you, you’ll be bombarded with well-wishes and queries about … that time so long ago.”There was a pause.“And about your new significant other, if I’m not mistaken.”

Hermione blushed and chuckled, sipping her tea in an attempt to gather her thoughts.“Luckily, I’ll likely be in the Restricted Section and Madame Pince won’t let the children linger too long,” she grinned, “and as for my personal life, I’ve had many years to cultivate a firm but polite _no comment_.If Rita Skeeter was good for one thing …”The women shared a laugh.

“So, what is it you’re seeking, Miss Granger?” Minerva asked after a moment of silence.“I can’t imagine there’s something here that you wouldn’t have access to at the Ministry if it’s in relation to creatures.”

Hermione paused, deliberating, before confiding in the only person she was absolutely sure wouldn’t get overly emotional.“It’s not creatures.I’m - I’m researching the spell, the curse, Antonin Dolohov hit me with in fifth year.At the Department of Mysteries,” she added unnecessarily.“Since it was non-verbal, I’ve got nothing much to go on but a purple light.”

“And its effects,” Minerva added thoughtfully.“You were knocked unconscious, correct?”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed.“I’ll see if Madame Pomfrey has time to speak with me about the potions she gave me after.She was able to diagnose _something_ at least.Though that was only at the time.I doubt the potions will help me now.”

“I take it this means your quest to learn isn’t purely academic,” the Headmistress intoned, and Hermione knew it wasn’t a question.

“No,” she confirmed.“It’s … it’s not academic at all, really.”The former Gryffindor twisted her hands together in her lap, face screwed up in thought as she tried to find the words to explain her situation to the Headmistress.A bit of guilt tugged at her since she hadn’t told her best friends or her boyfriend, but she knew they were too close to her and couldn’t be trusted not to lose their cool and run off half-cocked in an attempt to avenge her or something.No, right now Minerva McGonagall was her best bet for talking this out with someone level-headed and who had the proper level of maturity to handle jarring news.“It’s actually in a wild attempt to save my magic.”

“Save your magic?” Minerva repeated in a shocked tone.“What do you mean?”

“For whatever reason,” Hermione stated as evenly as she could, “a few weeks ago, my magical core started dimming.I was feeling fatigued so I went to St. Mungo’s.Pepper Up wasn’t working and I have some big legislation coming up so I wanted to be at my best.”She paused, licked her lips and shifted in her seat.“And that’s when Healer Smythe found that my core was weaker.Not - not terribly or anything.Not yet.But she believes that the Dolohov curse is what caused it.What we _don’t_ know,” she added in frustration, “is why now.Or what is was.Or how to counter it.”

Minerva watched her for a long moment before nodding.“Hogwarts is at your disposal.Please let me know if you’d like me to assign a seventh year to assist you in your search.Without telling him or her the reason,” she added, holding up a hand to prevent Hermione from objecting.“And I shall let Poppy know you’ll be stopping in today to speak with her.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” Hermione breathed as she stood.She shook the older witch’s hand again before making her way to the door.“If you don’t mind,” she continued, turning back to look at her former teacher, “I’d like to research through dinner and head back after.”

“Of course, Miss Granger,” the Headmistress agreed.“If not before, I will see you around seven tonight.”

“Thank you,” Hermione repeated with a slight smile before making her way out of the Headmistress’ office and beginning the long trek to the library.

* * *

It was only with a profound amount of incredible luck that Hermione came across a book with references to non-verbal spells that attacked the core magic of a witch or wizard.Of course, she found the book just as she was getting ready to leave, so she had to take a few moments to persuade Madame Pince to allow her to take it home with her.It took Hermione promising she would have it back in no more than fourteen days as well as an agreement to allow the woman exclusive editing rights to any autobiography Hermione may write in the future for her to reluctantly allow the book to be removed from the library and the school.

Hermione hadn’t had time for a lengthy discussion with Madame Pomfrey, but she was given the list of 10 potions she’d been administered for five days after the incident.It was enough for her to start piecing together what the spell had done to her initially and, hopefully, why its permanent effects had only just begun.

With a final goodbye to Minerva, along with a request for the older woman to assure Madame Pince that she would return the book on time, Hermione took the floo back to her flat. 

Upon arrival, she found that her boyfriend had indeed made it back before she did, but was obviously tired from his visit with his mother, as he was sleeping soundly on the couch.Smiling softly, she went to her room to stow the book in her night stand.Since Malfoy was dressed for dinner already, Hermione took a few moments to freshen up and then change into the burnt orange dress he was sure to appreciate.

Once she considered herself ready, she made her way back to the living room and sat beside him on the couch.Hermione permitted herself a moment to just take him in.His face, so handsome normally, was even more so in sleep.His pointed features had somewhat rounded out and he had more color than he’d had as a young man.She missed his stormy gray eyes though.

“Malfoy,” she whispered, her hand reaching out to smooth his hair from his forehead.“I’m home.”

It took a few seconds before his eyes blinked open and a sleepy smile stretched across his lips.“What time is it?” he asked as he pushed himself up into a seated position.

“It’s …” Hermione looked over at her mantle clock.“It’s about half seven.I just got back a few minutes ago.”

“Wore that dress to Hogwarts, did you?” Draco asked her with a grin, reaching up to rub at the fabric creases on his cheek.“Betcha the kiddies couldn’t keep their eyes off of you.”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione slid closer and rested her cheek against his shoulder.“I was in regular robes when I went,” she laughed.“And I was in the library on a Hogsmeade weekend so the only one looking at me at all was Madame Pince.”

“Hot,” he teased, leaning in to give her a kiss.“You look lovely.”

“Thank you.”She stood and held her hands out to him to pull him up from the couch.“I don’t want to be late for our reservation,” she told him at his arched brow.“I didn’t stop for lunch today so I’m starving.”

Malfoy nodded and set his shirt and slacks to rights.“What were you researching in the library?”

Reaching for the wand she’d left on the table, she answered, “The spell Dolohov hit me with in fifth year.”

“Really?Why?”

Eyes wide, Hermione kept her back to him for a brief moment so she could figure out how to respond without giving it all away.She couldn’t believe she’d just up and admitted that out loud.So much for keeping things close to the vest.“I just started thinking about it the other day,” she answered as truthfully as she could.“And when I realized I didn’t know anything about it …”

Malfoy laughed and moved to wrap his arms around her from behind.“You just couldn’t keep yourself from trying to figure it out.”

Letting out a breath of relief, Hermione nodded.“Exactly.I can’t believe I never bothered to find out about it before.Don’t know why the urge came to me just recently …”

“Yeah,” the blonde agreed, “I would have thought you would have started when Dolohov died a few weeks ago.”

She knew Malfoy kept talking but she couldn’t hear the words over the buzzing in her ears.How could she have forgotten Dolohov had died?Had she even known?Was it just another Death Eater death that she’d read about and then pushed to the back of her mind so as to not bring back any memories from the War?

“Granger?”His voice pierced into her brain.“You okay?”

Blinking rapidly to clear the haze, Hermione nodded.“Yeah.Sorry - I.”She cleared her throat and met his eyes.“Dolohov died?” 

“Uh … yeah,” Malfoy replied slowly, as if he were speaking to a toddler.Or a crazy person.“Last month.”

_Last month_ , she thought wildly. _Likely when the fatigue started.Likely when my core started dimming._

_His death is the reason._

“Right,” she said after a moment, trying to keep herself from going off the deep end.“Sorry.I forgot for a moment and it …”

“I know,” he said quietly, drawing her into a hug.“I remember overhearing Longbottom talking about you after.I didn’t care at the time,” he admitted with a slight shrug and a smirk, “but if I did, I would have been bloody petrified.And murderous.”

“Well then you’re retroactively sweet,” Hermione smiled, pecking him on the cheek and pushing the Dolohov information aside for the time being.She could diagnose it later when she didn’t have a handsome boyfriend and an empty stomach. 

_Much later_ , she added mentally when Malfoy gave her _that smile_ and slid his hand into hers.Perhaps tonight’s date was exactly what she needed.

* * *

The next morning while Malfoy slept peacefully, Hermione left a note and made her way to Diagon Alley to send an owl to Healer Smythe.The chill in the air made her wish she’d just splurge to get one of her own, but being out of her flat and away from her boyfriend gave her a chance to think and process before writing to her healer.

There was no doubt in her mind that Dolohov’s death was the reason his curse was taking hold on her now.While that unfortunately meant that she wouldn’t be able to interrogate him or threaten him into providing the counter curse, it _did_ give her another avenue to explore regarding what spell he’d used.There had to be, if not in the Ministry then in Hogwarts, a book that would allow her to study spells that only exhibited their true power and intent after the caster died.

Relief flooded her when she came to the realization that she still had time and wouldn’t need to involve Malfoy, Harry or Ron.Research had been and always would be her area of expertise.There was no doubt in Hermione’s mind that her boys - her men - would be willing to help her find what she was looking for, but if she had the ability to keep them out of it even longer, she absolutely would.

“What the bloody fuck are you doing here when I’m fairly certain, based on Page Six of the _Prophet_ , there’s a sexy blonde in your bed?”

Hermione laughed when she heard the voice of Jackie Stuart, Ginny’s girlfriend and one of Hermione’s favorite people.Jackie’s outgoing personality and lack of filter reminded her somewhat of Tonks.“Me?What are _you_ doing out of bed before noon?It’s Sunday, after all.”

“Yes, yes, well I’ve stupidly agreed to bring something to drink for Sunday supper with the Weasleys and I haven’t the foggiest idea where to find the best so I was going to wander Diagon until I found someone to direct me to the best elf-made wine in London,” Jackie retorted, leaning back against a wall as if she hadn’t a care in the world.“Now answer.”

“I need to send an owl,” Hermione responded with a flush to her cheeks.“I haven’t got one.”

“And your sexy, rich boyfriend can’t buy you one?What good’s a sexy, rich boyfriend if all he does is act sexy and not rich?”

Shaking her head, Hermione couldn’t help but laugh.“I’m not asking my boyfriend to buy me an owl when I can afford one on my own.And he _has_ a name, you know.”

“I do know,” Jackie shot back with a little smirk.“Do you?Because I’ve only ever heard you call him by his last name.”

“It’s habit,” she retorted.“And sort of like a pet name by now.He still calls me Granger.”

“And do you like that?” the other woman asked with an arched brow.Hermione must have blushed or otherwise given herself away because Jackie jumped up with a loud _ah-ha!_ and pointed at her.“You get off on it!”Batting her long, dark hair from her face, she did a funny little jig and laughed.“Him calling you by your last name totally turns you on!”

“ _Shhh_!” Hermione chastised, looking around to make sure there was no one close enough to hear their conversation or see how red her cheeks had turned.“You’re ridiculous.And very _loud_ for a Sunday morning.”

“Oh, shut it,” Jackie rejoined.“No one’s here at early o’clock anyway.And I’d like to point out, for the record, that you didn’t deny it and, as a lawyer, I’d like to inform you that a non-denial is an actual confession.”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Hermione responded, shaking her head at her friend’s antics.

“Regardless, you still didn’t deny so it’s law. _Anyway_ ,” she added over Hermione’s attempt to overrule her, “you wanna hit the pub tomorrow night after work?Gin doesn’t have practice so we were thinking we’d get all the girls who aren’t pregnant together and make a night of it.Maybe the pregnant ones too but they can’t drink and would therefore be completely dull _or worse_ , remember what we talk about the next morning.”

Hermione considered it for a moment, snorting at Jackie’s declaration.Now that she had a firm place to look, she could better allot her time.There was nothing wrong with taking an hour or so to see her girlfriends.Before Hogwarts, she never would have imagined having a group of women she felt close to.Even during school, she had her roommates but Lavender and Parvati weren’t exactly friendly to her.Now though, Hermione had Ginny and Jackie, Luna, Angelina, Padma and even a few women from work.There was also Pansy but she was sure the former Slytherin would rather bleach her hair than spend a night drinking with Hermione and her friends.

Perhaps she would invite her anyway though.Just so she could tell Malfoy she did.

“Yeah, alright,” Hermione agreed with a shrug.“Owl me the details.”

The two women hugged and then parted ways, Jackie heading to the Leaky to see if Tom had any suggestions and Hermione finally to the owl post.Her letter was quick and to the point, asking for an appointment again at lunch on Wednesday and letting Healer Smythe know where to focus her investigation, and she was back home in her flat before Malfoy even woke.

Smiling to herself, Hermione changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a t-shirt before climbing back into bed and burrowing close to her boyfriend.As far as days went, this particular Sunday was shaping up to be a pretty good one.


	4. Chapter Four

As Angelina and Ginny chanted for Jackie and Padma to _chug, chug, chug, chug!_ , Hermione knew she made the right decision to take the evening off with the girls.She was tired and anxious to delve into the books on magic that was most effective after the caster died that she’d found, but spending time with her girlfriends was something of a necessity.It took her mind off of what was happening without feeling like she was leaning on Malfoy too much or hiding things from Harry and Ron.

A cheer went up from the group and Hermione lifted her mug in a gleeful joint salute to Padma, who’d beaten Jackie handily.The lawyer smirked and smacked a big, wet kiss to her girlfriend’s eventual sister-in-law’s cheek and sat back in her seat. 

“Not fair,” she complained teasingly.“Shouldn’t be gorgeous _and_ be able to drink me under the table.”

“Should I be offended that you think one of those qualifiers applies to me, love?” Ginny asked with a grin of her own.

Sitting back, content to just observe, Hermione smiled.Most of her life, it had been just her and the two boys, with Ginny and Luna smattered in here and there.Now, she had a strong group of excellent girlfriends who were great at advice and quick to tease.

Honestly, if it wasn’t for the whole _losing her magic_ thing, Hermione would have considered herself to have a truly wonderful life.

“So, how’re things with the ferret?” Ginny asked as she knocked her shoulder into Hermione’s.“Jackie said you looked throughly fu-“

“Ginny!” Hermione hissed, waving her hand frantically in Ginny’s direction.“Please.”

“Oh come on,” the redhead complained.“Everyone here’s a friend.”

“Everyone _here_ ,” Hermione said as she gestured around the table.“Not …” she added, gesturing to the pub at large.

“Hermione’s right,” Luna said, her dreamy voice rising over a cheer from a group of men in a far corner.“Imagine what Rita Skeeter would write if she knew exactly how sexually pleased Hermione was with Draco Malfoy.”

“Luna!”

“What?” the blonde asked with a forcefully vacant smile.“Anyone who knows you can see exactly how _relaxed_ you are after you spend the night with him.”

“I sincerely dislike every single one of you,” she lied, bringing her drink to her lips.“Can we please move on and discuss someone else’s love life or something?”

“Well, Harry’s discovered …”

“Not yours!” Ginny said with a loud laugh.“Or yours!” she added, pointing to Padma and Angelina in turn.

“I believe that only leaves us,” Jackie said with a lascivious smile.“Or Pansy.”

“No, please,” the quiet woman said with a shake of her head.“Share with us how the two of you are enjoying the new flat with no smelly boys to muck it up.”

Jackie snorted.“As if Ginny isn’t worse than the boys!”

Satisfied to let the couple squabble over who was messiest, Hermione turned to Pansy.“So, Malfoy said you’ve been given a chance to write up a column for _Witch Weekly_?” she posed with interest.“He said you were pretty excited about it.”

“Did he?” Pansy responded, her head tilted to the side.“How nice of him.”

Sighing, Hermione nodded.“Well, good luck.Tell Malfoy when it’s going to be published and I’ll be sure to get a copy.”

“I didn’t think you were interested in _Witch Weekly_ ,” the raven haired girl shot back.

Hermione shrugged.“I’m interested in what my friends are doing.”

“We’re not friends.”

Hermione blinked then nodded.“Okay, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

Pansy grumbled something to herself before letting out a long, put-upon sigh.“I’m still getting used to this,” she explained somewhat reluctantly.“I guess I …”

When Pansy trailed off, Hermione looked over to her and nodded.“Can’t be easy.Spend your whole life loving someone, or thinking you should, and when they’re with someone else …”

“You trying to tell me you’re still in love with Weasley?”

Hermione grimaced.“No, not at all.But I’m saying it’s not easy getting past something that’s been ingrained in your life for so long.Do you really think you and Malfoy make a good pair?Not compared to anyone or anything, just, y’know, in general.”

Pansy sniffed and turned her head as if she was planning to ignore Hermione for the rest of the night, but after a moment she said, “He was who my father said he wanted me to marry.And, I guess maybe it was because of the whole … Dark Lord thing.Lucius was powerful, Narcissa was the height of society.I was told to get close to him and I suppose at some point I fell in love.”

Hermione nodded.“I understand that.It’s how I fell in love with Ron.”

“That was a mess,” the other woman responded honestly, no hint of malice in her voice.“You and him.”

“It wasn’t until it was,” Hermione disagreed.“But it definitely wasn’t something built to last.”

Pansy nodded.“Me and Draco too,” she admitted.“He wasn’t … or, I guess he _was_ , the socialite, elitist prat I always imagined my future husband to be.”

Hermione laughed and after a moment Pansy joined her.“He’s still a prat,” Hermione promised.“And elitist.Though he’s learned to use some of my muggle electronics.Harry’s shown him how to play video games.”She paused.“You should see how ridiculous they are.”

“Maybe next time I’ll come by,” she offered amicably.“Just to see.”

“If they let me know their next game night, I’ll owl you.Make sure to bring popcorn and be prepared to have to silence them.Like children sometimes, I swear.”

The two women fell into a companionable silence for all of thirty seconds before they were dragged back into the greater conversation, now focused on Padma complaining that she’s _sure_ Ron bought an engagement ring at least two weeks ago but he hasn’t given any indication he was close to giving it to her.

“I just hope he doesn’t take three bloody years like he did with asking you out!” she groaned, pointing at Hermione.

“To be fair,” she responded, sipping her drink, “Ron never asked me out.I kissed him and that was about the length of the discussion.”

“So what you’re saying,” Angelina interceded, “is Padma just needs to buy a bloody dress and tell him to show up somewhere with an official.”

“Probably for the best,” Ginny agreed easily.“He’s an idiot when it comes to plucking up courage to even _talk_ to a girl, let alone propose.Awful Gryffindor, honestly.”

“I’m _never_ going to get married,” Padma wailed, dropping her head to the table with a _thunk_.

“I’ll marreh’ ‘yeh!” a slurred voice shouted from across the pub.

“See!Even _that bloke_ proposed first!”The collected women all burst out laughing. 

* * *

_Thank goodness for hangover potion_ , Hermione thought the next morning as she finished getting ready for work.The night before had been so much fun and had relaxed her in ways that a night with Harry and Ron or with Draco couldn’t.She and Pansy had come to some kind of understanding and they’d made tentative plans for lunch during the week, but she wasn’t sure if it would stick or because the alcohol had made them a bit more amenable to each other.

She and Angelina arrived in the atrium of the Ministry at just about the same time and Jackie was only a few minutes behind.The women shared a smile before splitting off, each having something different to do that morning and none having time to stand around chatting before they had to get to work.

Hermione was going to be meeting with Minister Shacklebolt about getting someone from his administrative office to work with her office on the werewolf legislation.It had been a while since she’d seen him and it would be nice to catch up for a moment or two before getting to work. 

And perhaps she would be able to get something out of him about Dolohov’s death.

Hermione hadn’t really had much time to herself since Malfoy had reminded her of the incident, so she hadn’t been able to look into the circumstances.She knew he’d been in Azkaban but nothing more.She imagined there could have been some kind of uprising attempt, but the only person she could think of that had enough sway to incite it was being a model prisoner.Or so she’d heard.

The thought struck her so swiftly and with such force that she stumbled over her own feet as she exited the elevator on the Minister’s floor. _Lucius Malfoy_.He would probably know at least _something_ about everything she had a question on.Malfoy Senior was in Azkaban and would likely know what had happened with Dolohov; he also had such an extensive knowledge of dark magic that he might be able to give her some direction for the purple curse.

However, that would mean either involving Malfoy or going so far behind his back that if she was able to figure out a cure, he would likely chuck her for what she did to do so.

_No_ , she resolved silently, smiling in embarrassment at the witch who’d helped steady her, _I’ll figure this out without having to involve him or his father._ “Thank you.”

“Hermione, come in, come in,” Kingsley called from inside his office and she smiled at the witch again before following his voice into a rather large room.The mock windows showed a beautiful day outside and Hermione’s mood lifted immediately.The Minister stood and circled his desk and pulled her into a friendly hug.“How is it you work for me and I haven’t seen you properly in months?”

“I’d imagine you’re quite busy, Minister,” she responded, taking the offered seat and smiling at him.

“Minister,” he scoffed.“I think perhaps when we’re speaking privately I can just be Kingsley.You may have looked like Harry Potter but I certainly knew who was riding the thestral with me that day.Brightest Witch of Her Age indeed.”

Hermione laughed and shook her head.“Kingsley then.How have you been?”

It was nice catching up with someone she considered a friend outside the walls of the Ministry.The Order still got together for important events and some of them met up occasionally to go to the pub or a quidditch match, but it wasn’t like it had been immediately after the war.Sometimes Hermione missed it.

“So, I hear you’re looking for some support staff from my office for your werewolf legislation.What was the name of it again?” he asked her with a grin that told her he was well aware of the name.

“The Remus J. Lupin Werewolf Desegregation and Anti-Discrimination Act,” Hermione replied, her voice catching slightly on her friend’s name.

“He would be so embarrassed,” Kingsley chuckled.

She nodded, her eyes going to the hands she’d folded in her lap.“I wanted Teddy to have something important with his father’s name on it.I wish there was something I could do for Tonks as well but …”

“While she was certainly different, she wasn’t a magical creature.”

A laugh burst from Hermione, short and loud.Shaking her head, she agreed.“Exactly.And I was hoping you had someone in your office who would be willing to work with mine in getting some specifics in there.”

“What kind of specifics?” the Minister asked curiously.

Hermione licked her lips and spared a moment for a deep breath.“The kind the would amend Ministry By Laws and remove the requirement that werewolves indicate their lycanthropy on any job applications.Starting with the Ministry and then expanding into other public positions and eventually privately owned businesses as well.”

“Hermione,” he breathed softly.“You know …”

“Remus was an incredible teacher,” she interrupted, “and most students and staff who hadn’t been at Hogwarts when he was a student had _no idea_ that he was a werewolf.”

“ _Most_ students,” he responded.“You knew.”

She paused and chewed on her bottom lip before she softly responded, “Brightest Witch of My Age, remember?”

Silence fell over the office and Hermione hoped she hadn’t just killed her legislation in one meeting with the Minister.It was bold and certainly risky - not every werewolf was like Remus.But not all of them were like Fenrir Greyback either.There would have to be tweaks in the wording and everything had to be clear and specific, but Hermione figured her best bet to get what she wanted was to start as big as she could.If they were going to water down her legislation, she was going to do everything in her power to make sure she got as much as possible.

“I’ll think on it,” Kingsley finally rumbled.“You can have a staff member - I’ll have Eloise send their CVs to your office and you can select who you’d like - but I make no guarantees about your specific language request.Can we agree on that?”

“Yes, Minister,” she breathed, standing and extending her hand for a shake.“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured.“Tell Potter to take a few lessons from you in how to get what you need for your department.His request is being blocked by someone higher up in his.”

“Can’t you just override it?” she asked curiously.

Grinning, Kingsley lifted a shoulder.“Yes, I could.But he hasn’t asked.”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione gave him a smile.“Thank you for meeting with me.I’ll send our selection for the liaison quickly.”

“Good day, Miss Granger.”

* * *

It wasn’t until Hermione was back in her office that she realized she hadn’t gotten any information on Dolohov’s death from Kingsley.She had the thought of going back to see him again, but she didn’t want to push her luck and she didn’t want him to know that she was digging for information. 

Her mind drifted again to Lucius Malfoy and the dearth of knowledge he would likely have on both Dolohov and his silent curse.It would be so easy to get the man alone and question him until she was satisfied.While she wasn’t an auror, she was Harry Potter’s best friend and a war hero in and of herself.Her name carried a certain weight in some circles and Hermione was pretty sure it wouldn’t be hard to get a meeting with the elder Malfoy.

The problem was, it would likely turn quite a few heads.

Sighing, Hermione decided to swallow her pride and speak to Harry about it. _It wouldn’t be the worst thing_ , she argued with herself, _to let Harry in on my issue.He’s much more level-headed than Ron and less likely to try to throw money at it than Malfoy._ Decision made, she sent an inter-departmental memo to Harry inviting him over for dinner that night.She made it clear that it was just for the two of them and she would explain why when he was there.

It didn’t take long for him to reply that he would be there.

Hermione spent the rest of the day going over the CVs of the administrators in the Minister’s office and jotting down points she wanted to go over with Harry when he came for dinner.It was an extensive list but she knew she had to be incredibly specific in order to keep him as calm as possible and focused on what they could control.

Occasionally, being a swot paid off.

Harry met her outside the Regulation and Control offices and they traveled to the lifts together.“So, trying to steal me away from Luna, are you?”

“Definitely,” she responded without hesitation.“I’m sure my cooking alone will sway you.”

Harry paused and looked over at her.“You’re, uh, you’re not …”

“We’ll get some Thai takeaway on the way to my flat.Or Lebanese.Whichever.Both are good.”

Harry let out a breath and Hermione would be offended if she didn’t agree with him.If she’d had all day to plan and cook, there was no doubt she would be able to whip up a great dinner. What she didn’t exactly excel at was getting food on the table in a pinch.“Yalla Yalla?”

Hermione snorted but nodded.“And you tried to pretend you didn’t like it because Luna said it was infested with nargles.”

“Gotta keep her happy,” he replied with a grin.“So if she asks …”

“We got Pizza Hut?”

“Bingo,” Harry grinned.“Maybe I’ll stop on the way home and grab her a slice.”

Hermione lifted an eyebrow.“You’re going to go to Covent Garden to get Pizza Hut to convince Luna that you had Pizza Hut so she doesn’t know you ate the Lebanese food from a restaurant she worried had a nargle infestation?”

Harry thought about it for a minute before nodding.“Yeah, sounds about right.”

After they were laden down with some of their favorite Middle Eastern food, they apparated back to her flat and went about setting the table.“I would compliment you on the manners you learned from Luna but …”

“My wife prefers not to match anything for dinner and sometimes puts roast in bowls because it wants to be there?” he finished for her with a grin.

“You always smile when you call her your wife,” Hermione pointed out, smiling herself.“I like it.”

“Still new,” he agreed with a nod.“Sort of.I just … she …”

“I know,” she told him, pulling him into a hug.“I’ve never seen you like this.Not even when you were with Ginny and, trust me, Sixth Year Harry, when he wasn’t stalking Malfoy or shirking his responsibilities to Dumbledore, was one of my absolute favorite people.”

“Sixth Year Harry had a lot of fun with Fifth Year Ginny,” he said with a laugh.“Not a bad girl to have a ton of, y’know, firsts with.”

“I’m sure,” Hermione agreed.“Regardless, I’m so happy to see you so happy.This is the best possible outcome.”

“Now we just need to get Ron to propose to Padma and you and Malfoy …”

“Ah!” she cut in, waving her hand frantically to cut him off.“No jinxing anything!” _And absolutely no getting my hopes up that I’ll actually be able to have a future with him._

Harry chuckled and grabbed a bottle of red wine before pouring two glasses and sitting at his usual seat at her table.“I’m getting into this lamb kibbeh before you eat it all,” he proclaimed, portioning a large bit onto his plate and then putting the rest onto Hermione’s. “So, what’s this dinner all about?”

“I - you think it’s got to be about something?” Hermione asked nervously.“Why does it have to be about something?”When Harry arched a brow, she deflated slightly.“Alright, maybe it does.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, Hermione.”It wasn’t a question because he didn’t doubt she did know that.It was a testament to the strength of their friendship that he was willing to sit in silence, eating the dinner he’d sneakily paid for while she was rummaging through her purse, while he waited for her to gather herself and tell him what she needed to.

“I know,” she finally agreed.“It’s just … this one is hard.And I - I need your word that you won’t tell anyone what I talk to you about tonight.Not Luna, not Ron, _no one_.If you can’t agree to that, I can’t tell you.”

Her words must have struck Harry particularly hard because he sat straighter in his seat.“That bad?” he asked cautiously.

Hermione nodded slowly, her eyes meeting his.“That bad.And I’m not saying I won’t ever tell Ron or Malfoy or any of the others.I’m just saying, for right now, this is between me, Professor McGonagall and my healer.And you, if you’ll agree to my terms.”

Harry was quiet for a moment and she briefly worried he wouldn’t agree to keep it between them.It would probably set her back and force her to look closer at the Lucius Malfoy angle, but she would understand.Harry was fiercely loyal to so few people and he truly disliked keeping secrets from any of them.

He took a deep breath and met her eyes.“Okay.For now.”

She wanted so much to agree but she couldn’t.“No, Harry,” she said, shaking her head.“This has to be on my terms.I can’t - this is too big and I need to be able to control the flow of information.”

Harry mumbled something to himself but nodded.“Alright.Mum’s the word until you say otherwise.”

Hermione let out a relieved breath.“Thank you, Harry.”When she didn’t say anything else, he motioned for her to tell him what was on her mind.She took a beat to gather her thoughts before blurting out, “I’m losing my magic and I think it’s because Dolohov died.”

Blinking, Harry stared at her for an uncomfortably long period of time before he gulped down his wine and met her eyes.“I’m going to need you to say that again.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the lovely ladies over at Hedwig's Haven - thank you for your help when my brain wouldn't allow my sentences to make sense.

Not having more answers to give Harry irritated her as much as it apparently did him.After every bit she was able to fill him in on, he asked her for answers she simply wasn’t able to provide.Hermione loved Harry, she truly did, but when he was impatient for answers, he was relentless and it annoyed her to no end.

Perhaps she was finally understanding what it was like to be her friend at Hogwarts.

“So you’ve got nothing?” he asked, his fingers tapping an irritating staccato on her table.

“Not _nothing_ ,” she disagreed, reaching over to still his hand, “but not much.I know that my problems started after he died and I know that I don’t know anything about the curse he hit me with when we were in fifth year.”

“But that’s all?”

“Yeah,” Hermione breathed.“That’s all.My healer and her team are working on it and knowing Dolohov died gives me more information than I had, but it’s not much.Luckily, I don’t think it’s moving too quickly.I mean, yes, I’m fatigued but I haven’t really noticed any difference in my magic.”

“Does anything make you feel better?” Harry asked with interest.“If you’re feeling tired or - or fatigued or whatever.Does anything bring your energy back?”

Hermione shook her head.“I don’t think so.I haven’t really catalogued it.Maybe I should,” she added thoughtfully.“The trouble is, I thought it was just normal fatigue.Or, y’know …”She trailed off and she felt her cheeks heat up.Telling Harry the specifics of her relationship with Malfoy was not something she was ever going to be prepared to do, and she was certain he would never want to hear them.

Unfortunately, he didn’t follow her line of thought and asked, “No.What else did you think it could be?”

“Nothing,” she insisted as she pressed her hands to her cheeks to try to cool them off.“Nothing at all.”

“No, Hermione,” Harry replied as sternly as he could.“I need to know everything if I’m going to help.”

“It wasn’t what I was worried it could be so there’s nothing else to investigate on that front,” Hermione replied with conviction.“It’s Dolohov, not the other thing.I’m positive.”

“You may be but I’m not,” he retorted and Hermione just wanted a hole to open up and swallow her.“Whatever you thought it could be may not be out of the realm of possibility and if it’s on the table, I need to know.”

“It’s not,” she promised.“Healer Smythe -“

“Just tell me, Hermione,” Harry huffed.“It’s not like it’s -“

“I thought I might be pregnant!”

Silence. _Well_ , she thought with a rueful grin, _that certainly shut him up_.

“I.Oh.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face.“But I’m not,” she assured him.“Healer Smythe made sure that I wasn’t.This is magic-related, not, y’know, Malfoy-related.”

Harry audibly gulped and Hermione wondered if he had been trying to deny she had a physical relationship with their ex-foe.“Well.That’s good.”

She chuckled slightly and shook her head.“Very good,” she agreed.“Can we maybe now move away from that and onto my real situation?”

“Yeah,” he agreed quickly and easily.“So, you’re looking into, what, death magic?”

Hermione shrugged and offered a little nod.“I guess that’s my next step.I’ve borrowed a few books but haven’t really gotten into them.I’m hoping to learn something about that specific area of magic that will lead me towards the purple spell.”She licked her lips and turned her eyes away from Harry.“I’m worried I may have to visit Azkaban.”

“Why?Dolohov died but there wasn’t anything - there was no dark magic.At least no _new_ dark magic.”

“How did he die?” she asked with interest. 

Harry shrugged.“I don’t know.They just said he was found dead in his cell.I can look into it,” he promised.“Find out if it was some kind of suicide or something.No one mentioned any potions or anything like that.”

Hermione nodded but sighed, feeling a little defeated.“I think Lucius Malfoy might know something, whether it’s about Dolohov’s death or the curse.Or both,” she added thoughtfully.

“You don’t think he had anything to do with that, do you?” he asked, his head tilted to the side.“From what everyone’s said, Malfoy’s been the model prisoner.Dawlish is even talking about giving him the option for probation.”

Hermione’s eyes widened.“You can’t be serious.”

“No, I’m Harry,” her friend quipped.When she failed to laugh at his horrible joke, he continued, “He really hasn’t caused any problems.And with Narcissa and Draco doing so well on the outside …”

“Harry, he _can’t_ be released,” she told him seriously.“And not just because he’d vehemently oppose my relationship with his son, though he absolutely would if he knew of it, but because he’s a fantastic liar.He got away with no time in Azkaban at all after the first war.He’s certainly not paid his debt to society for his crimes before and during the war.”

“I agree,” he said softly, “but my hands are tied.I do what I’m told.”

“Since when?” Hermione asked fiercely before blowing out a breath and shutting her eyes.“Sorry. I’m just …”

“I get it,” Harry responded, though she knew he didn’t, that he couldn’t.“I’ll keep you in the loop on that.”He paused, “Unless you finally take the position in the DMLE that I’ve been trying to get you to accept for, what, a year now?”

“You can forget it,” she replied on a sigh.“I haven’t even made head of my own department yet.And it probably won’t matter anyway.I - I have a bad feeling about this curse.I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to stop it.”

“What’re you saying?”

“Harry, if I lose my magic, I certainly can’t stay employed by the Ministry of Magic.I won’t be able to get in.Or perform spells.Or create potions.I don’t even know if my newly-muggle brain will allow me to read the legislation I’ve already created, let alone write any more.”She pushed a hand through her mess of curls.“If I lose my magic, Harry, I’m going to go back to a muggle life.I don’t even know if I’d have the knowledge of the magical world as a squib does.I just … don’t know.”

Harry reached over and took Hermione’s hand, squeezing it tightly.“We’re going to figure it out,” he promised her.“And you’re not going to lose your magic.”He paused, then grinned.“And if I help, you have to come over to the DMLE and whip it into shape.Some of the junior aurors are worse than Ron was at Hogwarts.” At her look, he sheepishly amended, “Okay, worse than Ron and _me_ at Hogwarts.”

“We’ll see,” she allowed.“First thing’s first though.”

“Right,” Harry agreed.“Dinner.”

* * *

Spending time with Harry was exactly what Hermione had needed.While Minerva knew of her issue, as did Healer Smythe, she felt like there was a great weight removed from her shoulders by allowing Harry in on her secret.It would likely feel even better if she involved Ron as well, but she talked herself out of it by reminding herself he was under enough pressure to propose and she didn’t want to add to that. 

It was a rather good excuse in her mind.

Hiding it from Malfoy was a bit harder.With every passing day, she felt herself growing closer to him and wanting to share parts of her she’d never shared with anyone else.She wanted to tell him about how scared she was when she sent her parents away, wanted him to know she didn’t think she was going to survive the war.She thought about telling him what it felt like when she was a child and didn’t know she had magic; wanted him to hear how poorly the kids in her primary school treated her because she was a freak.

Mostly, she wanted to tell him that she was losing her magic and she was terrified because she couldn’t find a solution.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said softly, his fingers skimming over her bare upper arm as they lay in bed one very early Sunday morning.“I don’t care for this set up anymore.”

Hermione’s heart started hammering in her chest.“I - sorry?”she asked, hoping her voice wasn’t as high as it sounded to her own ears.

“Yeah,” he drawled lazily, “only spending one or two nights with you a week?It’s complete rubbish.”

Relaxing slightly, Hermione huffed a breath through her nose.“It’s what we’ve got,” she told him.“We’re both quite busy.”

“How long d’you reckon we’ve been doing this?” he asked her, his fingers still sliding slowly up and down her arm.She was acutely aware of the gooseflesh he was creating.“Being together,” he clarified.

“Um,” she replied, mildly distracted.“More than six months.Closer to seven, probably.”

“Hmm.” 

She waited for him to say something more but instead he leaned down to press his lips against the side of her neck.“In some circles, we’d be considered engaged by now, a relationship this long.”

“Not _this_ circle,” she said, a little panic in her voice as she pulled slightly away so she could look him in this eyes.“This circle says we’re dating and not engaged.”

She probably could have hit him with a pretty strong avada for the laughter that he let slip.

“I’m not proposing,” Malfoy assured her.“I promise.That’s certainly not … currently part of my …”He trailed off, his cheeks pinking.“I need you to let me know if I’m headed in the right direction here or if I’m about to be unceremoniously removed from your bed.”

“I promise there would be great ceremony if you were to be removed,” she deadpanned.“Continue with your thought, please.”

Malfoy licked his lips and turned so he was slightly above her, looking down to meet her eyes.“I’m not saying I don’t see a future for us.I’m just saying that rings and officiants and lots and lots of Weasleys in their finery are not in our very near future.”He paused.“Do I get to stay?”

She smiled and reached her hand up to comb through his hair, landing at the back of his head to pull him down for a languid kiss.“I suppose,” she agreed a little breathlessly.“But you have to tell me what you meant by not caring for this set up anymore.”

He lowered himself down onto his elbow and smiled, kissing her slowly.“It’s not enough,” he told her quietly.“I want more of you.”

“Don’t know how much more there is,” she grinned, wriggling a bit.“What more do you want?”

“Every night.”

Sobering instantly, Hermione shook her head.“Malfoy, I thought you said …”

“It’s not typical for someone of my - for, uh … for purebloods,” he said haltingly, “to live together before, uh, marriage.Or at least betrothal.But I’m not …”

“A typical pureblood anymore?” she asked with a small smile.“I’ve noticed.”

“Good,” he responded seriously.“I’d hoped you would.I’ve tried to be less of who I was when we were younger.”

“Me too,” she agreed.“I think we’ve both done a pretty good job of it.”

He smiled and kissed her softly.“So … what do you think?Is that something you’d consider?Living with me?”

A large part of Hermione wanted to answer his question without words, but with kisses and touches and promises of tomorrow and every night after.However, the part of her that kept her secret pushed to the front of her mind and stopped her.“I - yes,” she said slowly.“I’d consider it.”

She could tell he was shocked by her answer and she didn’t know if it was because he thought she would jump at the prospect or reject it out fo hand.“How much consideration is it going to take?” he asked as he linked their fingers together.

“Some,” she replied honestly.“It’s still … it’s only been a few months.”

Malfoy nodded slowly.“I see.Are you … unsure?Of our relationship?”

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head.“Not at all.”

“Then your hesitation?”

“Is purely on me.I’ve never really lived with someone before.I don’t count my parents or Harry and Ron.I want to make sure it’s something I’m absolutely ready for.Sharing a bathroom, a bed, a kitchen.Splitting chores and shopping at the market …”

Malfoy smiled widely and leaned down to kiss her thoroughly.“I was just thinking about how we can both reduce our wardrobes since we’d never be dressed in our flat.”

Hermione snorted a laugh and then smacked her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.“Draco!”

He immediately sobered.“Say it again.”

“Say what?” she asked, the smile falling from her lips.“What’ve I said?”

“My name,” he breathed, his face moving infinitely closer to hers.“Say my name again.”

Her heart racing, Hermione lifted her arms to wrap around his shoulders.All thoughts of losing her magic and her boyfriend disappeared as she whispered, “Draco,” and he closed the distance between them once more.

* * *

Once Monday rolled around and Hermione had returned to work, her mind kept drifting back to Draco and his offer.Her heart sped up at the very thought of taking the huge step of moving in together when it was still so early on.Six months, _seven_ months, was nothing in the life of a witch or wizard.

If it was still wartime, or even just after, she might have jumped at the opportunity.Many of their classmates had decided not to wait, after all, and if she and Ron had been certain of a life together, she might have been quick to agree if he’d asked.While Voldemort was good and dead, and most of the Death Eaters had either joined him or been sent to Azkaban, her generation lived with the knowledge that perhaps not all dead people stayed dead.And certainly not all prisoners stayed in prison.

It wasn’t wartime, though, and it hadn’t been for several years.She was in no rush to be a wife and mother, though she was certain Molly would start cooing over her growing pack of grandchildren and giving her pointed looks that could only mean “when are my non-grandchildren going to start arriving?” 

She’d started practicing her reply look of “ask Harry and Luna”.She had to admit it was coming along well.

Draco hadn’t been proposing marriage, though, and for that she was grateful.If moving in together after only six - seven - months had given her pause, she wouldn’t dare imagine what her reaction would have been had he actually been proposing they get married.

The truth was, Hermione wanted to be with Draco as much as he wanted to be with her.She could imagine it easily, as if she was seeing the future they could have together.They’d get a place that was all their own, a decent-sized flat somewhere in the City, maybe.It would have loads of natural light and Neville would give them some kind of plant neither knew how to properly take care of as a housewarming gift.Occasionally she would cook but he’d probably bear the brunt of that particular necessity, and she would get peeved at him when he left his ties around or his shoes somewhere other than by the door.

And it would be wonderful.

Unfortunately, it would also be impossible if she didn’t figure out what the hell Dolohov had done to her.

“You look deep in thought,” a voice called from her doorway and she looked up to smile at Ron.

“When have I never _not_ been deep in thought?” she asked, gesturing to one of her guest seats.He shut the door to her office behind him and then lowered himself into the chair.“You look anxious.”

“Yeah.I, uh.Padma.”Hermione blinked and then gestured him to continue when she realized he felt as if he’d said enough.“Gonna, y’know.Ask.”

“Propose?” she asked with a smile.“Finally?”

“Yeah, well.S’been long enough, right?”Ron was fidgeting and looking down at his hands.“Don’t want her to think I don’t wanna, y’know?”

“She knows you do,” Hermione said softly.“Ron, she doesn’t doubt that you love her.”

“Yeah but I know she knows I got a ring and everything,” he replied, shifting in his seat again.“And - I mean, has she said anything to you?”

“Might have mentioned it,” she agreed.“She’s as anxious as you are to get that ring on her finger.She loves you and desperately wants to marry you.”Sensing she was making Ron even more nervous, she added with a grin, “though I can’t imagine why.”

“Oi!” he exclaimed, looking up at her with a furrowed brow.“I’m marryable.”

“I’m sure you are,” she agreed.“And I think Padma is very, erm, _marryable_ as well.So what’s got you so nervous?You can’t possibly think she’s going to say no.”

“I - no, not really,” he admitted.“She’s just - she’s special and I don’t want to muck it up like I did with us.”

“Oh, Ronald,” Hermione said softly, standing and walking around her desk to sit in the other guest chair.“You didn’t muck us up at all.We just weren’t built for the long haul.Not together, at least.We fought too much and we were always angry or annoyed for some reason or another.At least once the shine of our new relationship wore off.”

“Once we came up for air, you mean,” Ron corrected with a little grin.“Things were good with us at the start, yeah?”

“Things were always good with us, just not always in a romantic way.We’re better like this, don’t you think?”

“Loads,” he agreed.“And, I mean, the - what me and -“

Hermione took his hands and smiled, hoping it would calm him down.“It’s different with Padma,” she supplied for him.“Your future with her is so much different than any future you and I could have together.”

“Yeah,” Ron breathed, his eyes falling shut.“She’s just - exactly who I belong with, y’know?”

“I do,” she promised.“Just like Harry with Luna.I mean, really, how many people marry their first love?”

“I donno.But, I mean, it’s good to have a first love and then another love, right?Get all the kinks out with the first one, yeah?”

“Like learning to chew with your mouth shut?” Hermione asked with a pointed look.

“Mmm,” he agreed.“And maybe figuring out not every bloody sentence has to be grammatically correct?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied haughtily.“Sentence structure and diction are very important to proper communication in a healthy relationship.”

“You and Malfoy deserve each other,” Ron groaned.“Merlin, when you have kids, they’re gonna pop out with their pinky in the air for tea and a bloody monologue on the Goblin Rebellion of 1614.”

“1612, Ronald, did you pay no atten -“

“Hermione!” he exclaimed with a laugh. 

“Sorry,” she replied sheepishly.“Sometimes I can’t help it.”It was wonderful to see him laugh and more relaxed and she didn’t mind sacrificing some of her swottiness to get him there.

Ron shook his head and smiled before standing and reaching out to pull her from her chair into a hug.“Thanks for this,” he said quietly.“Exactly what I needed.”

“She’s going to say yes, Ron,” Hermione promised, squeezing him tightly before pulling away.She held him at arm’s length and smiled.“She _wants_ to marry you.She loves you.Even though you completely ignored her at the Yule Ball.”

“Because you were with Krum,” he replied, as if that explained everything.“Guess I was jealous.”

“Yes, Ronald, I know how much you wished _you_ had been his partner.”

“Bugger off,” he laughed and gently shoved her away.“Get back to work.I’ve got to figure out a way to ask Padma to marry me.”

“She doesn’t need pomp and circumstance, Ron.She’s not her sister.She just needs you.”

One corner of his mouth lifted and he gave her a nod.“Thanks, Hermione.”

“Of course,” she replied.“Let me know when you’ve done it?Though,” she added before he could agree, “I reckon she’ll likely scream loud enough for me to hear whenever you do ask.”

Ron’s laughter followed him out of the room.She stayed where she was even after he was out of view, a smile on her face.Hopefully soon he would be telling her that he’d plucked up the courage and asked, and that there would be another wedding in their future.

Her mind flashed to Draco again and she pushed it away, a deep pit developing in her stomach.She couldn’t think of that for herself until she figured out the curse.

With a newfound determination - and a mental curse at both Draco and Ron for putting the thought of marriage into her mind - she pulled out one of her books and started reading. 


	6. Chapter Six

Several days and one meeting with Healer Smythe later, Hermione was focused on her plight.She was getting increasingly fatigued as the days went on and it was starting to worry her.The only time she felt any relief from the weight pushing on her shoulders and eyelids was when she was with Draco.He had a way of making her forget her problems and just live in the moment with him.

He hadn’t broached the subject of finding a place together again, but she was thinking about it whenever she wasn’t thinking about losing her magic.Hermione wanted so badly to say yes and just _be with him_ for as long as she could, but every time she picked up a pen or a quill to owl him to say yes, of course she wanted to live with him, she forced herself to stop.It wouldn’t be fair to Draco if she agreed and they moved in together and then she had to leave the magical community.

Part of her wondered if there was any chance he would be willing to stay with her should the curse be successful.If they stayed together and eventually married and had children, the child would be a half-blood just as much as if she lost her magic.Perhaps being with him would prevent the Ministry or St. Mungo’s from taking her memories of the magical world, if that was something they did anyway.

Another part knew it would be dangerous.If she lost her magic, she would be ill-equipped to help their children with bouts of accidental magic.She would also have a difficult time joining her husband at galas and other important social functions.Part of his job was to be seen and help his team be seen; she couldn’t do anything to prevent him from doing his job.

“Earth to Hermione.Are you there?”

Eyes snapping up from the book she was reading, she smiled at Jackie.“Sorry.Just really into this book.”

“Such a nerd,” her friend said with a laugh, scooping up another spoonful of ice cream.“Have you heard from Ron or Padma yet?”

Hermione shook her head.“Nope.Stupid prat’s either chickened out again or they’re locked in one of their flats celebrating his Gryffindor courage.Hopefully the latter because I can’t really take it much longer.I love Ron, I do, but this is getting ridiculous.I’ve half a mind to suggest she make him wait for an answer when he finally does ask.”

“As if she’ll even let him get the question out before she’s screaming _yes_ ,” Jackie cried, her voice echoing off the buildings and drawing the attention of other patrons in Diagon Alley.Hermione rolled her eyes and Jackie waved to some of the staring people.“You know I’m right.”

“When you run for office, I’m going to make posters with that as your slogan,” Hermione said instead of responding. 

“Me?” the other woman snorted.“Hell no.I hate politics.But I’ll be your lawyer with a fifty percent retainer fee once _you’re_ Minister.”

Hermione shook her head and smiled, taking a drink from her milkshake.“We’ll see about that.” 

“See about what?” Ginny asked as she and Draco approached the table.She stole her girlfriend’s bowl of ice cream and tucked in, ignoring Jackie’s protest.

“Your girlfriend wants to be my lawyer once I’m Minister,” Hermione answered, sliding a bowl of ice cream in front of Draco.“And she only wants a fifty percent retainer.”

“That’s a shit deal,” Malfoy replied, scooping some of his toffee ice cream up and directing the end towards Jackie.“Twenty five or we find someone else.”

“You gonna let the Minister’s Husband make deals for you?” Jackie asked affronted as she stole her ice cream back.“Sounds like you’re a bit passive.”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione grinned.“This one enjoys doing battle when it comes to money.It’s why he would have been excellent and bringing his family’s company back from the other side.”

“Don’t want my name on _that_ mess,” he objected, offering Hermione a taste of his ice cream.She wrinkled her nose and shook her head, which drew a scoff from him.“If you weren’t so besotted with me, I’d say you have terrible taste.”

“Perhaps her relationship with you is a _product_ of her poor taste and not an _exception_ to it,” Ginny responded lightly.“I always said she could do better.”

“Not hard when she’s dating your brother,” Jackie replied and Draco nodded in agreement.

“Hey!I also dated Viktor Krum,” she defended.

“He walks like a duck,” Draco murmured.

“You and Ron are both ridiculous with your jealousy over a relationship I had when I was _fifteen_.As I recall, you had Pansy hanging off of your arm.And you,” she said whirling to face a giggling Ginny, “were in love with Harry and went to the dance with Neville.”

“Neville was a wonderful partner,” Ginny defended.“I think he and I had more fun than the lot of you.”

“I had fun until your brother became a bigger git than he normally was,” Hermione pointed out. 

The banter made her smile, as Jackie and Draco began to wax poetic on the gittyness of Ron when he was in top form.Ginny turned her attention to her girlfriend and Hermione wondered if there wouldn’t be another engagement or intentional commitment in the Weasley family sooner rather than later.

“While this is fascinating,” Draco said several minutes later as he gathered his trash, “Granger and I have plans this afternoon.”

“We do?” she asked, looking up at him in confusion.

“We do,” he confirmed, reaching out his hand for her.“I recall you said there was a collection coming in to the British Museum you wanted to see.”

“Oh!” she breathed, a wide smile on her face.It fell almost immediately, however.“It’s not open to the public for another month though,” she frowned.

“Huh.I guess maybe it’s not a public showing then.”

Eyes wide, Hermione took Draco’s hand and stood.He bid farewell to their friends and started leading her away.Hermione couldn’t help but feel a bit of deja vu as she giggled and waved at the girls as they passed, her hand linked with Draco’s as they walked away.

* * *

“You said you’ve found a lead?” Harry asked as they sat together at her kitchen table, books open in front of them.

“I think so,” Hermione nodded, her eyes narrowed at the page in front of her.“It’s just …”She lifted the giant tome and placed it in front of Harry.“I’ve found this - _magicae usque ad mortem_ \- but it’s vague.It’s roughly translated to _magic until death_ , which sort of makes sense.I had all of my magic until Dolohov died.But, this could also be nothing.It’s not really referenced anywhere but this book and the author’s been discredited on many of their other writings.But it also uses …” She ran her fingers over another latin phrase.“ _A puritate virtute._ Power from purity.I don’t see how they relate exactly but I’m trying to piece it all together.”

Harry nodded and removed his glasses, wiping the lenses with his shirt.“Yeah.I was never - spellwork wasn’t exactly my strength.”She arched a brow at him and he chuckled.“The theory behind the spellwork,” he amended as he put his glasses back on.

Sighing, Hermione nodded and pulled the book back in front of her.“I’m going to see if I can find some other books that reference Adelina Kettles and see if I can link them back to one of these phrases.It would just be easier with …”

“More eyes?”Harry offered.“I would say Ron but …”

“But he’s rubbish at studying.I mean, he did well with research third year but …”

“Yeah, and he’s got a lot going on right now.I would say Padma but she’s got a lot going on and …”

“She’s a healer,” Hermione finished for him.“She’ll go into healer mode _and_ Ravenclaw mode and it’s too much.”

“You know who else you could probably get to help?” Harry suggested tentatively.

“Draco,” Hermione breathed.“I just … I’m not there yet, Harry.I still want to have a better idea of what I’m dealing with.He - he asked me to move in with him.Or, well, asked me to find a place for us to live together and I put him off because - I mean - I couldn’t …”

“You think he’ll chuck you if he knows you’re losing your magic?” Harry asked and she could see the spark of anger in his green eyes.“Really?”

“Not really,” she hedged.“But I don’t think it would work long term if I did.I - I really feel - Draco’s …”Hermione let out a breath and ran her hand through her hair in frustration.“I don’t want it to end, Harry.And if I lose my magic, it will.Maybe we’d last a while after it happened but Draco - he’s not meant to live a muggle life and I would never ask him to.”

“What if he offered?”

“I -“Hermione shook her head.“I’m not there yet.Once I get more, I’ll talk to him about it.I know how smart he is.I’m certain if his last name wasn’t Malfoy, he would have been a Ravenclaw.I just need more time before I bring him in.”

Harry nodded and scribbled the name of the author of the book Hermione was working through on a piece of parchment.“I’ll see if there’s anything in the auror archives about this lady.”

“I can’t imagine there would be but thank you,” Hermione smiled.

They worked in silence, the only sounds surrounding them were the turning of pages and an occasional sigh or cough.Eventually, Harry closed his book and let out a groan.“You know, you really should tell Ron.”

Hermione nodded drowsily.“I know.Even if he won’t really be able to help at this point.I’ll tell him soon.”

Harry nodded, standing from the table and going over to the fireplace.“Now’s a good time,” he told her before throwing some powder into the fireplace and calling out to Ron.

Before Hermione could object, Ron was agreeing to come over and Harry was stepping back with a satisfied smirk on his face.Hermione truly felt as if she could hit him and call it justified.

“That was low, Harry Potter,” she hissed as the fireplace glowed green and Ron stepped through, dusting off his robes.“I can’t believe you.”

“What’d Harry do?” Ron asked with a grin.“I like when it’s him and not me you’re mad at.”

“I’m not mad at Harry,” she denied unconvincingly.“Just a little …”Harry snorted and she narrowed her eyes.“Don’t think I can’t convince Ginny to bat bogey you.”

Ron grinned and headed into Hermione’s kitchen.“You got any more brownies?”

Hermione shot a look at Harry who shrugged and then motioned for her to follow their friend.Rolling her eyes, she did with Harry right behind her.“How’re things coming on the proposal front?” she asked, pointedly ignoring Harry’s exasperated look.

“Good.Got it all set up for this weekend, actually.I’m not even really nervous anymore.I, uh, I floo’d Pavarti and she screamed so bloody loud that it shocked the nerves right out of me.”He chuckled and shoved a brownie in his mouth.“Chufloofor?”

Hermione furrowed her brow and was going to ask him to please swallow before speaking but Harry said, “Hermione needs to tell you something that’s going on with her.”

She shot Harry another glare and turned to look at Ron’s open and concerned face.She instantly felt bad for not having told him before then.Ron was one of her best friends.They’d grown a lot since school and she was glad for it, because a younger Ron would likely have been furious that she’d confided in Harry before him.This Ron, though, would understand her reasoning, she was sure.At least she told herself she was sure.

So twenty minutes later when she was done and watching his blank face, Hermione was certain that his understanding would be revealed any second.But he just sat there, mouth hanging open, staring at her.He would start to say something but choke it back and just stare again.

“Ron, please,” she finally requested softly.“Please say something.”

Ron glanced over at Harry, Hermione supposed it was for some kind of guidance, and then looked back at her.“You’re - you’re -?”

“Losing my magic,” she confirmed.“Yes.”

“Because of …?”

“Dolohov dying,” Harry finished.“And the curse from fifth year.”

“And there’s nothing …?”

“Not _yet_ ,” Hermione emphasized, “but we’re still looking.We’re reading and following leads but it’s thin right now.”

“We?” Ron asked, looking between them.“Wait.This is the thing you weren’t ready to tell me about.”

“Yes.But I wanted you to know now,” she told him, eyes cutting to Harry briefly before reconnecting with Ron’s.“We’ve always been able to figure things out together and if this is - if I lose my magic, I want to be sure that the people I love the most are with me.”

“So Malfoy knows?”

“No,” Hermione said with a sigh.“I haven’t told him yet.I don’t know when I’m going to tell him.”

“Why not?” Ron asked curiously.“I mean, I thought you two were good.”Hermione thought she saw a bit of satisfaction in his eyes but she chose to ignore it.Now was definitely not the time for his childish need to be above Draco.

“We are.I’m just not …”

She had no idea how to explain it to him to make him understand.Yes, she had strong feelings for Draco and she might have even loved him, though she definitely hadn’t allowed herself to truly explore that option.Hermione wanted a future with Draco more than almost anything else, but this curse was threatening that.She wondered if she could simply tell Ron that she hadn’t told Draco because she didn’t want their relationship to end prematurely.Deciding there was really nothing to lose, she did.

Unfortunately, when she said that, Ron’s temper flared.“You think he’s going to leave you because of it?”

“No!” she was quick to correct, her hands moving to grip his.“No, not at all.I just don’t want either of us to start a mental countdown.Because I won’t stay with him if we can’t find the cure.Or counter curse.Or whatever it takes to stop my magic from being erased.I couldn’t do that to him.”

“Wizards marry muggles,” Ron said with a frown, not noticing her flinch at the term.“I mean, Seamus’ mum’s a witch and dad’s a muggle.”

“Seamus is also garbage at magic,” Harry muttered, wincing when Hermione smacked him on the arm.“Not that - not that your and Malfoy’s kids would be rubbish at it.You’re talented.The best.So, you know, just because you might not have magic anymore doesn’t mean you weren’t the best when you had it?”

Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself.“I won’t let him marry me if I don’t have magic.It might - I have to do some research on bloodline and the Sacred Twenty Eight but I’m not sure if the family magic would be affected by marrying a muggle.He’s working too hard to rebuild House Malfoy for me to let him throw it away on me - on a muggle.”

“Shouldn’t that be his choice?” Ron asked a bit snappishly.“Shouldn’t _he_ be the one who decides what happens to his House?He’s head now, right?With Lucius in Azkaban?”

“Yeah, I think so,” she answered with a shrug.“We don’t really talk much about it.Which is why I need to do research on what happens to family magic when a pureblood marries a muggle.I don’t think it makes a difference with a muggleborn,” she added, nodding towards Harry.“I think your family magic is still okay and your dad married a muggleborn.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, scratching at his chin.“Though the magic’s felt difference since Luna and I got married.But that’s two pure bloodlines, right?”

“Nah, mate,” Ron answered, “your House isn’t pure.Hers is, though, so maybe you can talk to her barmy dad about it,” he added, looking over at Hermione.“He may be mental but he knows some stuff.”

“Or maybe talk to Luna,” Harry suggested.“If nothing else, you’ll have someone with a pure bloodline to talk to about family magic.Maybe it won’t make a difference and you’re worried about breaking it off with Malfoy for no reason.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Hermione replied quietly, though she didn’t really believe it.

* * *

The next week, Hermione had another appointment with Healer Smythe.Her nerves had gotten the best of her and any time she felt even a little tired when she didn’t think she should, she sent an owl to her healer.When the woman finally came into the exam room, Hermione was ready to pull her hair out.

“Miss Granger,” Healer Smythe smiled.“Let’s see where we are, shall we?”

Healer Smythe ran the diagnostics and when she was done, she took a minute to note Hermione’s chart.The delay caused Hermione to get off the table and start pacing the room.She felt like she was being torn apart at the seams.

“Well?” she finally asked when she felt like Healer Smythe had been quiet for too long.“Has there been any change?”

“Miss Granger, why don’t you have a seat?” Healer Smythe suggested, pointing to a spare chair in the room instead of the table.“Tell me how you’ve been feeling.”

“Tired,” Hermione indicated as she sat, a pit forming in her stomach.“More tired than before.Sometimes my body or my eyes just feel so heavy.It’s not all the time, though.That’s - that’s a good sign, right?”

Healer Smythe cleared her throat.“The first time we ran the diagnostic spells you’d only lost a small portion of your magical core strength,” she said confidently.“It had been a few weeks, I think you’d said, right?”

“Right,” she confirmed.“I didn’t know then that it was Dolohov dying when it started but my boyfriend brought it up and I counted back and figured out that had to be it.”She cleared her throat.“So what are the changes?”

“When you came in the first time, we estimated that your magical core strength had decreased by less than five percent.”At Hermione’s nod, Healer Smythe continued, “It now appears that your core strength is down approximately twenty to twenty five percent.Likely closer to twenty five.Have you noticed anything other than the fatigue?”

Hermione shook her head.“No, just that.I’ve been very mindful of my magic.”She paused and let out a breath.“But I’ve done a lot of things the muggle way as a precaution.”Running a hand over her face she groaned.“I’m contaminating the experiment.”

“You’re - I’m sorry, what?” Healer Smythe asked.

“No, sorry.I’m making changes to the experiment, um, my life, and it’s affecting the outcome.I need to go about my life normally in order to see what kind of effects the curse is having on me.No more doing things the muggle way.”

Healer Smythe nodded.“The curse still seems to be working at a steady pace,” she said, “so nothing’s accelerated it.Is there anything that makes you feel better when you’re fatigued?”

“Rest,” Hermione answered.“When it gets too bad, I usually just relax for a while.Is that - when I relax and don’t do magic is it sort of like my core is recharging?”

“A bit,” the healer agreed, “but not completely.Even if you stop doing magic altogether, your core isn’t going to rebuild.You can’t wait this out.However, when you don’t use magic, you don’t _tax_ the magic you have, so it’s not depleting it.”

“I understand,” she replied, filing that information away.She might need it near the end if she, Harry and Ron couldn’t figure out how to save her magic.She knew she would write to the headmistress when she got home to let her know what her status was and ask her to please pass the information on to Madam Pomfrey, but the likelihood that either of them had been able to solve her issue was slim to none.“It’s all just … so difficult to believe.To-to comprehend.”

“To accept?”healer Smythe asked softly.

“I’m not there yet,” Hermione refuted.“I’m practical and logical, but I am going to hold out hope for as long as I can.I’ve got a really, _really_ great life right now.I have my best friends, I have a fantastic boyfriend, a career hopefully on the rise and legislation that will make someone I respected very much proud … wherever he may be.” 

Healer Smythe shot her a smile and reached for her parchment.“Is there anything else you want to discuss?”

Hermione considered bringing up the Kettles book but she wasn’t confident enough in her research to think it was worth taking up time with her healer for just yet.“I don’t think so,” she answered with a shake of her head.“I think that’s all I have.”

Healer Smythe nodded.“Very well.Just one more quick question.How often are you feeling the fatigue?Daily?”

“Nearly,” Hermione agreed.“Sometimes it seems like the only time I _don’t_ feel fatigued is when I’m with my boyfriend.”

The women shared a laugh and Hermione promised to update Healer Smythe if she found anything useful and the older woman did the same.Hermione set an appointment for two weeks with the agreement that if her condition worsened she would owl immediately for an emergency meeting.

With a racing heart and fidgeting hands, Hermione left St. Mungo’s with the feeling that she needed to tell Draco sooner rather than later what her condition was.With nearly a quarter of her magic gone, she wouldn’t be able to hide it for much longer anyway.

Besides, she was tired of feeling tired and being with him was the only thing that helped.She thought perhaps a trip to his office for a late morning coffee was exactly the pick me up she needed before heading back to work and fighting with Kingley’s admin about language in her bill.

**Author's Note:**

> My first original Harry Potter work in years ... here's hoping it doesn't disappoint. Thank you all for reading.
> 
> Story title from Bullet For My Valentine, 2015.


End file.
